The animal gave a terrible cry, but went on faster than ever.
“Come!” said Joe, taking aim with another gun, “I must help you, or we’ll never end it.” And now two balls penetrated the creature’s side.
The elephant halted, lifted his trunk, and resumed his run toward the wood with all his speed; he shook his huge head, and the blood began to gush from his wounds.
“Let us keep up our fire, Mr. Kennedy.”
“And a continuous fire, too,” urged the doctor, “for we are close on the woods.”
Ten shots more were discharged. The elephant made a fearful bound; the car and balloon cracked as though every thing were going to pieces, and the shock made the doctor drop his hatchet on the ground.
The situation was thus rendered really very alarming; the anchor-rope, which had securely caught, could not be disengaged, nor could it yet be cut by the knives of our aëronauts, and the balloon was rushing headlong toward the wood, when the animal received a ball in the eye just as he lifted his head. On this he halted, faltered, his knees bent under him, and he uncovered his whole flank to the assaults of his enemies in the balloon.
“A bullet in his heart!” said Kennedy, discharging one last rifle-shot.
The elephant uttered a long bellow of terror and agony, then raised himself up for a moment, twirling his trunk in the air, and finally fell with all his weight upon one of his tusks, which he broke off short. He was dead.
“His tusk’s broken!” exclaimed Kennedy—“ivory too that in England would bring thirty-five guineas per hundred pounds.”